


Burning Candles

by starwarned



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sort Of, Top Simon Snow, but is he really a bottom here, but is he really a top here, candle in the wind, inappropriate spells, this is my own personal inappropriate use of the force tag, yuh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwarned/pseuds/starwarned
Summary: “Stop being dramatic,” he whispers, running his tongue along the shell of my ear. “It’s just a spell.”I huff, still twisting my hips around to get something. “Yeah, a spell that’s going to kill me.”Baz and Simon breaksome sortof magickal rule.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 8
Kudos: 156





	Burning Candles

**Author's Note:**

> not me trying to get ONE LAST POST IN before the new year. it's still 2020 here so I'm full sending it. let's go out with a BANG, yeah? 
> 
> (fun fact about this: I started it because the COC Day 30 prompt was "Any Way the Wind Blows" and I started thinking about the Candle in the wind spell so, uh... I went with it. and then I felt bad about having smut be my last COC prompt so I changed it. but I kept this lying around and now I'm sharing it lol. enjoy the sex, I suppose!)

“No, no, no, _no, Baz,_ please don’t,” I whisper, rolling my hips forward to try and chase his touch. 

Baz presses a kiss against my jaw and I wish I could see him. I wish I could touch him. 

My arms are bound behind my back and I’m blindfolded. I’m lying on my back (Baz spelled away my wings for this very special occasion) with my feet planted firmly on the bed, trying to get Baz to touch my cock again. 

“Baz, you’re killing me,” I whine. 

“Stop being dramatic,” he whispers, running his tongue along the shell of my ear. “It’s just a spell.” 

I huff, still twisting my hips around to get _something._ “Yeah, a spell that’s going to _kill me_.” 

“I think you can handle it,” he says softly. Then he places a hand on my cheek and runs his thumb comfortingly over my cheekbone. I wish I could see him because I know what he must look like right now. And it’s making me even more desperate to touch him. “Ready?” 

I groan but nod. There’s a sliver of my brain that knows this is going to make it even better. 

Baz casts, _“_ **_Candle in the wind_** _!"_

I feel his magic hit me and I moan loudly, rolling my hips, even though I know now that I’m at least twenty minutes away from coming. Maybe less if Baz gets to touching me _anytime_ soon. 

“Okay,” I grunt. “You cast the fucking spell. Now touch me, _please_ ,” I whimper. 

Baz actually complies, wrapping his hand around my cock again. He slowly strokes me and I throw my head back, panting loudly because I can’t seem to get nearly enough oxygen. Baz and I have only discovered the idea of using **Candle in the wind** in the bedroom recently and when one of us wants to torture the other, it’s quite the tool. 

It’s usually Baz torturing me but I can’t say I’m complaining. 

Sometimes I need this. Sometimes I need Baz to tie me up and hold me down and fuck me and make me feel so incredibly _wanted._ Like I’m actually worth something. 

It’s good for me to not have to think about it. ( _It_ being everything else. Everything except Baz.) 

“ _Good_ ,” Baz praises as I continue to rut my hips up into his touch. He’s not touching me anywhere else and it’s driving me batty. I want to be smothered by him. 

“ _Baz_ ,” I whisper. “Please get on with it.” 

He laughs softly and kisses my cheek. I turn my head to hopefully catch him in a kiss but he instead presses two of his fingers into my mouth. I groan around them and nip at the tips of them, forcing a breathy moan out of him. I grin before sucking harshly on his fingers, getting them wet enough for where I hope they’re going next. 

I whimper when Baz pulls his fingers from my mouth and lets go of my cock at the same time. I shift, my shoulders twisting in the binds uncomfortably. 

I hold my breath, waiting for Baz to touch me — _anywhere_. He knows I want it so badly and that’s why he’s tormenting me like this. My thighs are straining but I can’t bring myself to stop reaching for him, for anything. 

I’m whining loudly — too loudly — but I can’t help it. I want Baz so badly.

“Baby, please—” I whisper. “Please touch me, I need it—” 

I’m cut off when Baz’s hands are on my hips and I’m being dragged down the bed a bit until I can feel his warm breath on my arse. I have no time to react or even prepare myself before his tongue is laving over me and I’m throwing my head back with an elongated whine. 

He’s not soft — pressing his tongue over and over into me and sucking harshly at my skin, his teeth just barely scraping over one of the most sensitive parts of me. His mouth is cool and wet and I’m yanking on the restraints holding my arms in place. I’m vaguely aware that I’m babbling nonsense, trying to get Baz to touch my cock or put his tongue in deeper or give me his fingers. 

Baz gives me none of those things because he’s a _prick_ , and instead, sucks harder and continues to shallowly fuck me with his tongue. He only stops when I can’t seem to catch my breath any longer, no sound coming out of me as a fuck back onto his mouth. He uses his grip on my hips to lay me back down on the bed and kiss my hip. A line of kisses is trailed up my torso until he can reach my mouth, his lips descending down to cover mine. 

I sigh into his mouth and try to push my chest forward to lean into him. He graciously lets me, covering my body with his and letting me feel all of him. 

_“Baz,”_ I moan into him, wishing — not for the first time tonight — that I could see him right now.

“Are you ready?” Baz asks, and I can hear the telltale click of the lube cap as he stops kissing me. I squirm in anticipation. 

“Get on with it,” I mutter, grinding my hips into the air like that’ll get him to finally listen to me. (I’ve been doing it all night and it hasn’t worked yet. I don’t particularly expect it to at this point.) 

Baz doesn’t answer, but his cold and slick hand wraps around the base of my cock and I choke on a groan. I can feel him move over me and I hear the lewd _pop_ of him removing the plug (that I’d put in him earlier and am disappointed that I’m not the one taking it out). I clench every muscle in my body in apprehension, but nothing could prepare me for the feeling of Baz sliding himself onto me, warm and wet and tight, and seating himself fully against my hips. 

_“Holy fucking shit,”_ I whisper, too turned on to worry about sounding like an idiot. (And with the way that Baz is whining right now, I’d say he’s in the same spot.) “C’mon,” I growl. 

Thank Merlin he’s moved passed teasing and gives me what I want, starting to move up and down on my cock, rocking slightly when he’s flush against my hips. It’s absolute torture. I’m still too far away from my impending orgasm, but Baz seems to already be halfway there. 

He’s moaning loudly above me, his arse slapping obscenely against my hips as he fucks himself on me. I wish I could touch him — push him to orgasm and look him in the eyes when he’s at the peak of his pleasure. 

I’m panting, straining against the ties, and doing my best to plant my feet in the mattress and rut into the sensation, fucking him from here as much as I can. 

Baz starts to get whiny, his noises going up in pitch, and his hips fall out of rhythm, stuttering. He clenches around me and I can practically feel his stomach muscles contracting. I can tell he’s touching himself now from the extra noise and I continue to grind up into him. 

_“Nngh, Simon,”_ he wails, one hand flattening itself on my chest. “‘s so good!”

_“Wait,_ baby,” I breathe, my chest constricting with affection. “Lemme see you. Please. Please, I want to see your face when you come.” 

Baz’s hand moves off my chest and I feel his fingers scrabbling to undo the blindfold from around my head. The moment that it’s off, he’s focused back on coming, his eyes shut and his head thrown back. 

I have to blink to adjust to sight again, but I am momentarily grateful for the **Candle in the wind** spell because I’m close to coming on the spot looking at Baz like this. He’s pressing up and down on my cock, his powerful thighs flexing with every move, and his hand’s wrapped around his own cock, quickly tugging himself to orgasm. He’s beautiful like this — his shoulders flushed (as much as they can be) and his neck exposed to me. He swallows and I can’t take my eyes off it. 

“C’mon,” I say, thrusting up into him and startling a loud moan out of him. “Baz, you’re so beautiful, baby, _come for me, please,_ fuck—” 

_“Simon,”_ he whimpers, opening his eyes and tilting his head forward just long enough to look me in the eyes before he’s calling my name again _(“Fuck, ah— Simon! Simon!”)_ and coming into his hand, some of his come shooting over my chest and hitting my chin. (I should find it more disgusting than I do.) 

His hips twitch as he rides out the orgasm, his eyes screwed shut, and he’s so tight around me that I just _wish that I could come,_ but I’m mostly content to watch him. Baz is always beautiful when he comes. He writhes on my cock and then whines with oversensitivity as his hand slows over his own prick. He opens his eyes and looks directly at me, his mouth soft and open, and his fangs practically glistening in the dim light of our bedroom. 

Baz places both hands on my sides and lifts himself off of me, causing me to groan and shut my eyes at the loss. But Baz is sensitive and still surely a bit out of it from his orgasm, so I watch him and wait until he finally lets me out of these damn ties or something. 

“How’re you feeling?” Baz asks softly, reaching up to pet my hair. 

I groan loudly. “Nothing like discussing feelings to make my stiffy go away, Baz,” I complain. (Even though it’s not remotely true — I’m harder than I’ve ever been and I can’t tell if the spell has worn off yet, but I think I might come the moment something touches my prick.)

He rolls his eyes and ducks down to kiss me deeply, effectively knocking all thoughts of feelings out of my head. All I know is Baz’s mouth and Baz’s tongue and Baz’s teeth and— _oh,_ Baz’s hand around my cock. 

I whimper into his mouth and grind my cock forward into his touch, feeling that familiar pull in my gut that tugs me towards my orgasm even after having it held magickally at bay for so long. 

_“Baz,_ fuck, _please,”_ I cry when he stops kissing me, but that’s all I have time to say because Baz’s mouth is wrapping around me and I’m writhing and thrusting and finally — _finally_ — coming, my orgasm punching the breath out of me. My hips twitch and I can’t breathe or make any noise, my legs jelly as I ride it out. It feels far too long and even as Baz swallows and cleans me up with his tongue, I feel like I’m still a million years away, my body practically floating above the mattress. 

Baz gently rolls me onto my side so he can undo the binds that hold my arms behind my back and I whine when he does so. I slowly come back into my body and when Baz rolls me back over, I surge up and kiss him. 

I wrap my arms around his neck, but it hurts a bit to be using them so I pull away from the kiss with a wince. Baz notices and silently pulls them into his lap. He takes his time running his fingers over the red marks and leaning down to press kisses to them. 

“Alright?” he asks me, pulling out his wand again to spell away any remaining come (I've still got some on my chin which I think is pretty funny, but I won’t tease him about it). He quickly goes back to caring for my wrists and arms. 

I nod, not trusting my voice. 

“Spell was okay?” 

I roll my eyes, and test the limits of my voice by mumbling, “Absolute torture, but _fu_ _ck yes._ ’s your turn next time.”

He shrugs, gently setting my arms down and crawling up the bed to wrap me in his hold. “I think I could certainly take it with less whining than you.” 

“Oh?” I ask, kissing his jaw. “We’ll see about that.” And if I weren’t so exhausted, I would kiss him to prove it or start another round, but my eyelids are heavy and Baz is comfy. 

And I feel cherished right now. I’m not ready to let that go.


End file.
